Simple Celebration
by Cee-face
Summary: China could have sworn children only liked waking up early for Christmas. -England/China and Hong Kong. Loving tea family, Father's Day fic.-


"…ddy? Daddy?"

China awoke to the quiet voice of his softspoken territory. Was Hong Kong talking to him or…?

The Asian nation rolled slightly to look at the slumbering figure on the opposite side of the bed, and the tiny Oriental face peeking over top of the mattress on that side. Right, right, he kept forgetting he ended up as the mom in this arrangement.

"England," whispered China, a rasp in his tired voice. Hong Kong's gaze traveled to China, and though his face was largely unexpressive for a child his age, the ancient nation caught the traces of an expectant pout on the young boy's face. His attention fell again to the sleeping lump of sheets beside him, and after propping himself up on one elbow, he tried again. "England."

The Kingdom stirred marginally this time, his groan swallowed up by the relenting down of his pillow. Satisfied, China then spoke to Hong Kong while England gathered his bearings. "It is early, aru. Is something wrong?"

The little territory simply stared as England slowly pushed the upper half of his body off of the bed. The elder nation's countenance turned wary at Hong Kong's silence, and after a moment, another bleary voice floated into the midst of the conversation. "Mmn? Something the matter?"

Both sets of almond-shaped eyes turned to the Westerner. "So you enter the world of the living, aru," remarked China, though he himself was still only half-awake. England answered him with a scowl, and the oldest peered down at the child again. "Go wait in the kitchen. We'll be right down, aru."

As always, Hong Kong did not respond with anything but silence and a brief stare before turning and pitter-pattering out of the room, politely shutting the door following his exit.

By this time, England was fully sitting up, running his hand through his bed-messed hair. China could only heave a sigh and let his head fall back to the pillow with a soft 'whump', locks of silken ash-brown ink pooling and bunching around his neck and shoulders.

Striking green eyes flitted down towards him. "Clearly you didn't include yourself in your 'world of the living' quip," commented the Briton smartly. "Tired?"

Hardened amber bore tiredly up to meet England's gaze. "It's your fault, aru. I do not know if you looked at the clock before you fell asleep, but we were up quite late," China pointed out, to a smirk nothing short of smug from the other nation.

"You could have just gone to sleep without me," the European country noted, the deviant curve of his lips growing when red blossomed underneath the frustrated eyes of the other man.

"Shut up," grumbled the Oriental as he sat up, combing his bangs back away from his face. "It would have been an inappropriate thing to do, to leave you in such a condition, aru."

"You act as if the alternative wasn't also 'inappropriate'."

"…shut up, ahen."

England laughed and slipped out from under the covers, and China absently watched from his peripheral as the other nation dressed. Today was…Sunday, wasn't it? _I'm even having trouble remembering the day. What a morning. _He knew it was their day off, at the very least.

Eventually he coerced himself into getting dressed as well ("Who mixed up the drawers? These are _definitely_ not mine, aru." "If you have to ask, it was probably you." "But they're yours.") and the pair crossed the hallways into the kitchen, where Hong Kong was waiting patiently at the table. China immediately surveyed the room for fire damage; he hadn't _heard _any firecrackers going off, but that didn't necessarily mean his ears hadn't been deceived.

Nothing new made itself known to him, however, besides the scratches in the lacquer of the table, so China turned his puzzled eyes on the child. "What is it, aru?"

Wordlessly, the little brunet hopped out of his chair, looking briefly towards England and China before retreating into the next room. The elder duo exchanged a suspicious glance preceding their following of Hong Kong, and upon crossing the threshold into the sitting room, they found him rummaging beneath a chair cushion.

"Did you lose something, Hong?" questioned England as he approached the territory, who quietly continued to search the depths of the armchair. Just as China was worried the piece of Western furniture would swallow up little Hong, the younger Asian emerged with a sheet of folded paper clutched in his hand. Brows knitted, China shuffled over to the pair just as Hong Kong passed the paper off to England.

"What is it?" asked the elder nation again while England unfolded the sheet. His gaze briefly alternated between the blond and Hong Kong, the latter of whom was holding up his arms, fingers poking out from the oversized sleeves of his robe.

Since England was preoccupied with the paper, China took it upon himself to kneel and bring Hong Kong into his grasp, slowly raising the little one up off the floor once they had a mutual firm grip. Both Eastern states then turned their attention to England. The Kingdom was taking in the contents of the paper with a soft expression on his face, and China, in his curiosity, edged closer to the taller nation to get a look at it as well.

It was an ink brush painting, very meticulously done but still childish in its skill level. China could make out recognizable features among the three figures depicted; it then clicked in his mind that the three were, in fact, England, Hong Kong, and himself.

With the close proximity, Hong Kong seized the opportunity to press a kiss to England's cheek, leaning out of China's hold to reach his younger paternal figure. "Happy…Fathers' Day," the child said simply.

The ancient kingdom watched as the British Isle took in Hong Kong's words, a smile touching his lips as he regarded the young region tenderly. China allowed himself a smile of his own when England inclined his head down to kiss Hong Kong's brow, ruffling the neatly-cut head of black hair with his fingers as he did so. "Thank you, Hong," he said, verdant eyes wandering back to the picture before he folded it again and deposited it in his pocket.

China adjusted his grasp on Hong Kong slightly, feeling the small hands fist sections of his silk shirt. "Perhaps we could go out to breakfast, aru."

A small laugh from England was his initial answer, an arm slipping around China's shoulders. "Since we're awake, might as well," he conceded with amusement.

Hong Kong smiled.

* * *

**A/N:** hooray, anachronistic fluff! it was originally going to be a very awkward kind of divorced-parents thing, but then i couldn't get the dates straight in my head and went "SCREW IT, I'M DOING LOVING TEA FAMILY". England/China is uhhh sort of one of my favorite pairings OTL so i couldn't resist including married-couple banter etc.

regardless of historical anachronism stew, just a short cute-ish thing for Fathers' Day; and, on that note, i hope all the dads (and heck, their families too) out there have a happy one! remember to thank your papas, everyone. c: happy Fathers' Day! Cee out~


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